The Dark Path
by Gordoth
Summary: A silent prayer is broken by war. But that prayer goes on, in the background. The war end, but a new one comes. The prayer still goes on. But will he find what he was praying for? Ratings might rise. Journey. Praise the Sun, or Solaire will leave the Kiln and stab you.


_**"There are those who are chosen. There are also those who are not."**_

The skull stared blankly at the statue, the lifeless expression it had frozen in unmoving. The statue, even though old and darkened by the shadows, was still as well made as the day it was placed in those halls. The skull was simply looking, as if waiting for something.

The statue portrayed a young and beautiful woman, who's beauty was divine, maybe or maybe not due to the fact she was a godess. She was wearing a dress which did not cover her arms, but also left a lot of cleavage. The woman, or godess, was simply the most gifted woman in the world, to ever have existed and to ever exist, at least in the chest area. Her dress draped around her feet to reveal that the divine beauty was wearing nothing on her feet, leaving them naked. Her hair was curly, and, in person, was a damp red.

The skull was not looking anywhere it was not meant to, as it was simply looking at the face of the godess. If one looked closer, one could barely notice the weak glimmer of armor, shrouded by the shadows of the palace. That armor was just like the statue, old, but as good as the day it was made. There was a big piece of cloth on the back, which had served as a cape, once, but was now just a piece, nothing more. If the skull, or person, who was looking at the statue had a weapon, it had certainly not brought it.

If one listened closely, one would hear the silent words of a prayer. Maybe it had once been a prayer, but the skull had stopped praying long ago and had started telling its story to the statue. The skull found itself at peace whenever he was here, kneeling in front of the beautiful statue, frozen in a prayer. This statue had heard and knew every bit about the life of the skull.

The skull stood there, lifeless, warmly embraced by a black hood which had a sinister feeling to it, and kept looking at the face of the godess. The skull would probably remain unflinching forever, or at least for as long as it could, but something, or more like someone, interrupted its silent prayer.

A damp voice was echoing through the palace. The skull was about to ignore it, as no one was to be worried by voices. At least, not in dark, abandoned palaces. But, after the voice started getting closer and closer, the skull had enough.

Suddenly, the skull, or more likely the person, rose up, reaching two thirds of the godess' height, and slowly turned around. The skull was laying atop a piece of bronze armor, standing high and proud at one meter and ninety-some centimeters. The leggings of the armor were made out of iron, and had different shapes than the chest-piece, which signified that whoever had assembled that armor set had used a few different ones. The gauntlets were made out of gold, and were the most masterfully done piece of the armor set as of yet. There was also a really old, light-yellow shield on the back of the skull's armor. It was so old that the yellow looked more like white. There were green signs on it, which no one could understand, and a strange, faint aura was radiating off the shield.

The skull, or actually, the suit of armor, moved its hands and took a small wooden box from its belt. The box was nothing out of the ordinary at first glance, but the more a man looked, the more he could understand it wasn't ordinary. For starters, the bottom was so deeply ascribed, that one would think it was black, but no, it was covered in so many signs and runes that it looked as if it was just black paint. Second, people could see the joints on the sides of the box, meaning it could be enlarged, by pulling it in the appropriate manner.

So, as the suit of armor took the box, it enlarged it, making it wider. Then, the suit opened the box, and its WHOLE hand went in, in search of something. After a while of rummaging, the hand started slowly coming out, but along with it, came a meter and three fourths long sword, shining as if it was just made. The suit of armor returned the box to its initial size and put it back on its belt. After it was done with that, the giant sword found itself on the suit's shoulder.

And, just like that, the suit turned to the statue, bowed deeply, and turned around again, but this time started walking towards the exit of the small hall the suit and the statue resided in.

The voices have not stopped, nor had they dampened, no, they had only kept getting louder and louder. As the suit of armor got to the exit of the hall, it two figures came into view.

The leading one was weakly bent forward, carrying a greatshield with an eagle drawn on it. There was little to no doubt that the man was a looter, as the bumped bag on his back showed he was.

The second one, the suit could not quite picture going together with the other one. It was a knight, with golden armor, which didn't really look like the standart armor one knight would wear, but what baffled the suit wasn't the fact that the armor wasn't ordinary. It was the fact that there was no shield on the knight's back. There was only a small bag on it, and nothing more.

As the duo made their was closer to the suit, their features became distinguishable.

The leading one, the looter, was bald. His eyes were small, his nose big, his mouth curved into an unsavory smirk. There was a glint in his eye the suit couldn't do much but dislike. Said looter was wearing dark clothes, and had a crescent axe on his back, along with the bag.

The following one, the knight, was hidden behind the helmet he was wearing. The helmet was strange, with multiple small holes on the upper side, for vision no doubt, and a plain flat surface on the lower side, the helmet was strange. Just like the golden armor the knight was wearing. The chest peace was a strange one, with what looked to be hands wrapped around the neck of the knight imbedded on the sides his own neck. There was a short frontal leather skirt, in between his feet, and a curved blade strapped to his thigh. It was a shotel.

The duo finally seemed to notice the suit of armor, absent mindedly looking at them. The looter stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth falling agape. The knight, who seemed more composed swiftly took his weapon out of its sheath and held it in a defensive manner.

"Patches, you fool! Got yourself together, that thing will try to kill us, I'm sure of it!" Half shouted the golden knight, bumping his comrade with his free hand. The suit looked at Patches and some kind of realisation hit it.

"Patches..?" Silently mumbled the suit, startling the duo again. Patches went pale.

"It knows my name! Lautrec, it's gonna haunt me forever now that it knows my name!" Screeched the looter, stumbling backwards and producing a bunch of necklaces from underneath his shirt, starting to immediately pray to all the different gods and spirits those amulets symbolized.

"You hath not enough faith to call upon the powers of any of those gods, Patches..." Mumbled the suit again, startling Patches even more.

"What are you talking about? I am the most faithful person in the universe! Gods have less faith than me..." Tried to combat the looter, but he went silent after a few failed arguments. The golden knight, Lautrec, was looking at the suit with interest.

"Have you met this looter before..?" Tried the golden knight, looking at the suit. Said suit turned its skull towards Lautrec.

"In a dark place..." Replied the suit, making Patches latch into his heart.

"Oh gods! It has seen me in my dreams!" Screamed Patches and tried to run away, but Lautrec grabbed his shoulder.

"With lots of trinkets... And a bunch of clerics... Most of them dead... The tomb of Giants." Finished the suit, making Patches stop his frantic attempts at escaping.

"Wait... Only one person survived the tomb, other than me... Is that you... Bruv?" Asked Patches, recognition striking his senses. His eyes were no longer wide with fear, but narrowed in doubt.

"Still a humble merchant, I see?" Confirmed the suit, making Patches lose most of his doubts and smile widely.

"There you are! And I wondered why my business is going down the shithole, my most prominent client was gone for so long! Where were you, bruv?" Happily returned Patches, now being contained by Lautrec.

"What about me, do you know me? Am I... Familiar to you in any way?" Tried Lautrec, but as he was about to add a question, the suit stopped him with a raised hand.

"Midnight will come soon... Come, we should hide..." Said, or more like, ordered the suit, who was actually a man, and made a sign to the duo to follow him. They did so, swiftly trailing in the suit's wake.

After going through the hall with the statue of the godess, the suit led his new guests to a small door, through which they all went. After the trio was in, the suit locked the door, pushed a bookshelf on it and put a chair in front of it.

"What now, bruv?" Asked Patches, a little winded by the sprint they made through the hall.

"Now... We wait." Replied the suit.

"What is going on, bruv? Why are we hiding here?" Asked Patches, his eyes rolling as he looked st the dull room with a bed and a bunch of bookshelves. There were also two chairs.

Lautrec was almost calmly looking around, but he quickly switched for staring down Patches. However, for some reason the looter didn't seem to even feel it. Instead, he just froze as he felt something cold grasp onto his neck. The looter's hands swiftly shot up, in an attempt to stop whatever was trying to kill him, but he realised there wasn't anything at all down his throat.

"Wha... What was that?" Asked Patches, eyes wide and hands shaking. The skull looked st him and nodded.

"Its the reason we are hiding here..." Replied the suit, making Patches gulp. Lautrec was looking at them, a bit puzzled by the reason behind their acting, or whatever it was, but then he felt it. As if something was slowly wrapping around his neck, cold and jagged, the knight felt the urge to scream.

In his mind, he pictured it as something like a presence, just like the feeling he had felt around Solaire, but the man had gone and had disappeared. Solaire's presence was nothing like that one. It made Lautrec feel calm and joyful at the same time. That presence... It made him want to shove his shotel up his ass and hide under his bed.

"And... What exactly is this?" Asked the golden knight, forcing the words come out of his mouth. The suit turned to look at him and nodded.

"Darkwraiths." Replied the skull, making Lautrec cringe. Patches paled, and the group went silent as a whole. The golden knight turned to look at his comrade, but saw only a ball of clothes and a big bald head, covered by hands. The looter was terrified beyond words. Lautrec also felt fear, terror even, but he could hold himself together much better than Patches.

Darkwraiths. Those things. They had destroyed New Londo. They had made life a Hell for every human. They had made life Hell for every undead. Those red humans, appearing out of thin air, only for the humanity of the victim. However, the red humans were actually phantoms. The real Darkwraiths were much more different.

As Lautrec felt sweat roll down his forehead, he heard a bang. Not like the bang of someone tripping and falling over, but the bang of someone MAULING something. The door, with other words. The bang was heard again. This time, Patches seemed to make a connection as the looter yelped and screeched silently.

"So... Could you tell me why we're you here in the first place? No one comes to mighty Anor Londo after what happened to Lady Gwynevere..." The suit broke the silence with his question, and Lautrec felt something wash over him, like a calm flow of a river. He got taken away from the terrifying monster which was outside the door, mauling it, trying to break in and steal their Humanity.

"We... We were running." Answered Lautrec, probably surprising the suit. If it was, it didn't really show it. It was simply sitting there, looking at him. Without moving and inch. Without breathing. Like a statue.

"I see. From what exactly?" Asked the suit, making Lautrec feel even calmer, as if trying to make him forget that there was a Darkwraith just outside that metal door.

"From the war..." Replied Lautrec. This time, the suit moved backwards, even though only a little, as if taken aback.

"War? War will reach Lordran when the dragons return, and that, my dear friend, will take sometime!" Countered the suit, probably refusing to believe that there was actually a war cooking.

The bangs became swifter, stronger and more frequent. Lautrec felt another trickle of sweat fall down his face. The calm which had been building up throughout their short chat was crushed by the Darkwraith outside.

"Worry not, greater have tried and even more have failed. This door was made from a material which could withstand the strength of dragons, a simple Darkwraith cannot even make a dent in it." Lautrec calmed down, albeait only a little bit, but then realised in what trivial manner was the suit talking about the Darkwraiths. As if they were mere Hollows.

"Now then, after we were so rudely interrupted, do you mind telling me more about that... War..." Asked the suit, his tone sounding sceptical. Lautrec hardened.

"It is true, war is coming to Lordran. Albeait slowlier than ordinary wars, it is coming. The Darkwraiths are preparing to attack the Chaos Servants. I know not why, but it is more than sure that those Darkwraiths outside are on their way to the Ruins, in order to probably assemble." Lautrec started. It was true.

"I see. How much longer until they march on Blighttown?" Lautrec was startled by that question. Was that man, or suit or whatever, planning to go and fight against the Darkwraiths? Or was it just him being curious? Lautrec didn't know, but he certainly was shocked.

"I know not, about a week or so." Replied the golden knight, studying the suit.

"Hm... I see. Are any of you two willing to accompany me to Blighttown?" Asked the suit, making Lautrec gawk. The golden knight was shocked beyond words, so he couldn't answer. Patches was probably still to terrified by the Darkwraith's presence to even care.

"If not, feel free to stay here. I, however, am going... Right now." Announced the suit, grabbing his giant sword and heading towards the door. Lautrec was abut to try and make him stop, but as he saw it was too late, the golden knight just rolled towards the bed, took his shotel out and raised his guard.

The suit moved the barricade aside, waited for the bang to come. As it came, he threw the door open.

**A/N: Please tell me what you think. I am going to try and update this story regularily because I am really into Dark Souls right now. I hope you liked it.**


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